


Un-traditional Traditions

by pornographicrainbowlegs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s05e16 Dark Side of the Moon, Food Fight, Gen, Prompt Fic, Thanksgiving, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 13:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pornographicrainbowlegs/pseuds/pornographicrainbowlegs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic was created for the chappedassmonkey challenge (found at <a href="http://chappedassmonkey.tumblr.com/">http://chappedassmonkey.tumblr.com/</a>, if anyone would like to join).</p><p>Original prompt: The Winchesters decide to do Thanksgiving right this year and everything goes very wrong. Extra hugs and kisses if you can work in a food fight!</p><p>Link to the original post on tumblr: <a href="http://chappedassmonkey.tumblr.com/post/68076839107/un-traditional-traditions">Here</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Un-traditional Traditions

“So, Sam, I hear you’re new to McKinley,” Stephanie’s father says conversationally as he scrapes another bite onto his fork.

“Um, yes sir. Two weeks,” Sam replies nervously.

They had been in Ohio for only two weeks: Long enough for Sam to be enrolled in McKinley Middle and apparently attract the attention of Stephanie. She invited him to Thanksgiving, but it had taken a lot of convincing for him to actually say yes. Not that he had anything to really look forward to at home but a bucket of extra crispy and his father passed out in front of the TV, but there was always Dean to think about. And, really, how close did he want to get to Stephanie? They were more likely to pack up in a week than they were to stay another month, but inevitably they would be moving on from the tiny Ohio town and he’d likely never see her again anyway. But Thanksgiving, real Thanksgiving with stuffing and turkey and green bean casserole was hard to turn down.

So he showed up on Stephanie’s doorstep around five without telling Dean where he’d be. He’ll deal with that later. Right now, he’s going to enjoy this nice, delicious, ordinary Thanksgiving meal.

Stephanie grabs his leg. He jumps and drops the fork he was holding, which clatters to his plate. Smooth, he chides himself, looking up embarrassingly red and mumbles an apology.

“So what does your father do for a living?” Stephanie’s father asks next, tactfully ignoring his daughter’s forwardness.

The rest of dinner goes as well as expected. It doesn’t end with a smashed bottle of whiskey or a slammed door, so Sam considers it a good night. Stephanie’s mother asks if she can drop Sam back off at home. “That’s alright, it’s really only a couple blocks away,” Sam declines as he sits to tie up his shoes.

“If you’re sure,” she offers again through the inflection of her voice.

“I’m sure,” Sam smiles and stands up. “See you at school on Monday,” he directs towards Stephanie and slips out the front door.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets and begins the walk back to the apartment they’re staying at. Stephanie’s home is in a nice neighborhood. Her house is large and beautiful. And though the apartment they’re renting this time is better than most – it actually has heat – it’s no contest where he’d rather spend the night. But he has to get home to Dean. He refrains from looking at his watch the whole walk home. It’s longer than he lead Stephanie’s mother to believe, and he’s chilled all the way through and shivering by the time he reaches the front door to the rundown apartment building.

He twists the knob and pushes the door in. “Hey, squirt, where the hell were you off to?” Dean greets with a wide grin.

Sam grins back at the familiar sight before him. His father is passed out in front of the TV, football game playing quietly. Dean probably turned the volume down so as not to disturb the sleeping man. His brother is setting the small table with paper plates and plastic silverware. “Just for a walk,” Sam says.

“Then you got some great timing,” Dean gestures towards the table indicating their traditional bucket of chicken.

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam says. “But I’m really not hungry.” He feels immediately guilty for cheating on their Thanksgiving traditions.

“Bullshit,” Dean says like he’s never considered the idea that people don’t eat when there’s food available. “Come sit and eat with me.” Dean starts pulling covers off of the side dishes. Sam sees green beans and corn and mashed potatoes and gravy all in little Styrofoam containers, steam rising off once the covers are lifted.

“Really, I’m not hungry. Save me some leftovers, though, it smells delicious.”

Dean eyes him for a moment before shrugging. “Suit yourself,” he says before sitting down and tucking into the meal.

Sam walks over to the table to take a seat, keeping Dean company and watching the football game. “So,” Dean starts around a mouth full of chicken, “where’d you really go?”

Scrunching his face in hopefully-passable confusion, Sam replies, “I told you, I went for a walk.”

“Yeah, uh-huh.” Dean smirks like he’s caught on to Sam’s lie.

“It was nice out,” he tries to keep his voice even and not defensive.

Dean keeps the smirk on his face and takes another bite of chicken. He swallows and Sam looks back to the TV again. Just when he thinks he’s gotten away with it, Dean pipes up again. “Was there a chick?”

Sam’s eyes shoot back to Dean’s, and before the word is even out of his mouth he begins chastising himself for the too quick, too incriminating, “No!” that shoots forth.

Dean’s already laughing, though. So hard in fact that he has to set the chicken down on his plate. He wipes his hands on a napkin before grabbing at his fork and sticking them in the potatoes. He mixes the gravy in while he gets his giggling under control. Sam glares, but it goes unheeded. Dean finally settles down after shoving a forkful of potatoes in his mouth. “Is she hot?” he asks around it, smiling.

Sam continues to glower for a minute at Dean’s brotherly teasing, but even he can’t stay mad for long. Especially because it seems Dean’s letting him off the guilty hook he’d stuck himself on. He’s glad to be rid of the feeling. “She’s…” Sam starts, unsure how to continue. The thought of how she grabbed at his knee enters his head, though, and he blushes at the memory. “Just a friend,” he finishes hurriedly.

“Just a friend, huh?” Dean mocks. “Totally.”

“Shut up!” Sam stammers. “Jerk,” he adds as an afterthought.

“Bitch,” Dean smiles around another fork full of potatoes.

The need for retaliation at the smug look on Dean’s face burns for a moment while Sam thinks of his attack. Dean’s gone back to looking at his plate and is still smirking smugly as Sam considers the possibilities before him.

Without thought to the consequences, he reaches for a spoon on the table before sticking it quickly into the Styrofoam cup of corn and flinging the contents at Dean’s face.

The shock and surprise that overcome the smug look on Dean’s face are just as quickly replaced by what can only be described as murder. “You’re gonna get it now, geek-boy,” he growls, already in motion to grab at and swiftly trap his brother in a headlock, giving him the biggest noogie of his life.

“Ow! Ow, ow, ow!” Sam scrambles to relieve the pressure on his throat and escape from Dean’s hold.

“Holler uncle!”

“Uncle, uncle!” Sam cries, still trying to pull away from Dean but laughing now that Dean’s moved from the noogie to a tickle fight. “Uncle, you jerk!” he squeals.

At an impressively loud snore from their father on the couch, the two immediately separate and sober up, but when nothing comes of it but a reposition, the two begin giggling.

“You know,” Sam says around his hushed giggles. “They didn’t have pie,” he finishes suggesting and inquiring at the same time.

“You’re in luck, Sammy-boy,” Dean smiles brightly. He stretches a long arm out to reach for the pumpkin pie on the table and shoves it in front of Sam.


End file.
